


An Angel in Hellfire

by MaxBetta



Series: Hellfire M.C. [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alpha Male, Alternate Universe - Bikers, Biker Sandor Clegane, Dirty Talk, F/M, Lemon, Sex, Smut, sansan, sexually aggressive sansa stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 15:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16642502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: When newly elected President of the Hellfire M.C. Sandor Clegane has a chance encounter with a stunning redhead, she shows him how fun it can be to give up control, if only for one night.





	An Angel in Hellfire

Racing down the empty country road on his Harley, Sandor cursed at the strands of his long hair that kept whipping him in the face. He’d left the clubhouse in such a hurry that afternoon that he’d forgotten his helmet. President. The patch was on his worn black leather vest, but it might as well have been a hot coal, burning it’s way into his skin. He had never wanted to be President of the Hellfire MC. But with an emergency “church” meeting and a unanimous vote, the bright white patch was attached to his cut before he’d even had a chance to take it all in.

 

Meryn Trant had been President for over a decade. Sandor couldn’t stand him personally, but he led the club well enough. That was, until he found himself behind bars. Arranging drug deals was one thing, but sampling the product was another. Trant had been found by the police in an empty parking lot at midnight, naked as his nameday and high on a cocktail of various illegal drugs and alcohol. There were enough substances in his bloodstream, and in the saddlebags of his bike, for him to be arrested on the spot. He was sentenced to 20 years behind bars.

 

Club rules state that when the President can no longer serve, the members vote in a replacement. Sandor knew that he made the most sense, he had been at the club the longest. There was no question of his dedication, he was loyal to a fault. But still, he didn’t want the title, or the responsibility. When he first joined as a prospect all those years ago, it was because he didn’t fit anywhere else. He was huge, knew how to fight, and his face alone was enough to intimidate most people into walking away. He was content to just be the muscle of the club. Bust a few faces, break a couple legs when needed, and rake in the cash. He never fathomed that the day would come when he would be President.

 

His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but his thoughts were elsewhere. In less than an hour there would be a huge party at the clubhouse to celebrate his promotion. There would be loud music, an open bar, and at least a dozen “sweet butts.” That was what they called the women who hung around the clubhouse offering themselves up to any member who would take them. They were good for one thing, and one thing only. Tonight, however, that might just be the one thing he needed. Maybe if he buried his cock in some whore’s cunt he could release some of the tension that was coursing through his entire body. It wasn’t romance, or even friendly sex. It was fucking. Hard fucking. He’d bend them over, lift their skirt, and bang the shit out of them, then send them on their way immediately after. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. He was able to get off, and they were able to tell all of their friends that they fucked a biker.

 

His cock twitched at the thought when his eyes spotted something on the side of the road ahead.  A little silver Chevy Camaro with the hood up. He pulled up slowly and stopped just behind the car. He was about to dismount when a stunning redhead came around from the front. Her long legs were encased in tight black leggings that hugged every curve. She wore a Led Zeppelin T-shirt that was ripped in several places and a black leather jacket, and her flaming red locks flowed freely in the breeze. Her bright blue eyes had him entranced. Just the sight of her made his mouth go completely dry.

 

She approached him cautiously, but with a friendly smile. “Hi! I don’t suppose you know anything about radiators? Mine seems to be cracked. I'm Sansa, by the way.”

 

He had already begun daydreaming about all of the things he would love to do with her lithe body, all the ways he would manipulate those legs on his mattress, when he snapped himself back to reality. “Name's Sandor. Uh, not much you can do with a cracked one other than replace it. Can’t help you there, but I can give you a ride to wherever you need to go.”

 

Sansa regarded him for a moment, then returned to the car, reaching in to grab her purse and lock the doors. Without hesitation, she threw a leg over the back of Sandor’s bike and wrapped her arms around him.

 

He hadn’t had a woman on the back of his bike in a long time. It felt good. Strange, but good. “Where do you want to go?”

 

She put her lips to his ear and answered, “somewhere I can have a few drinks and make a phone call.”

 

He grinned and nodded. Looking at his watch, he calculated the minutes in his head. If they headed for the clubhouse right now, they would make it just in time to be fashionably late for the party being held in his honor. He pulled out into the road fast enough that gravel went flying and dirt clouded behind them. Sansa squealed with delight, gripping him tighter. He could tell that she had been on a bike before.

  
The celebration was already in full swing when Sandor and Sansa entered the Hellfire M.C. clubhouse. There were at least a dozen men wearing cuts, and most of them were surrounded by women wearing strips of fabric that passed for clothing. The men all whistled and gawked when Sansa strode in. Sandor directed her to the phone, which was in the club’s main meeting room where they held chapel.

 

She hesitated for a moment, then whispered, “Are you sure it’s okay for me to go in there? Usually women aren’t allowed.”

 

Sandor was impressed with her knowledge of biker code. “It’s okay if I say it’s okay, I’m the President.”

 

Sansa nodded and left him to make the call. The guys made the odd raunchy comment while she was gone, but Sandor laughed it all off. She was only with him until she found another ride, no use making it into more than it was.

 

Sansa returned to find Sandor at the bar with a Guinness, and at her request he ordered her one as well. They sat there talking for most of the evening. Sandor’s curiosity was peaked when he noticed Sansa exhibiting familiarity with biker culture.

 

“How do you know so much about this lifestyle?”

 

Sansa swallowed her sip of beer. “My family...my Dad and my brothers, they were all in the life.”

 

She didn’t seem comfortable talking about the subject, so he didn’t press further.

 

They were mid-conversation, going back and forth about the merits of American made bikes vs. foreign, when the club Sgt. At Arms Bronn approached Sansa’s other side.

 

“Evenin’, babe. You free for the night? I’d love to have you warm my bed for a few hours.”

 

Sansa rolled her eyes and huffed. Sandor was about to put Bronn in his place, but to his surprise, she did it for him. “No, I’m not available. As you can see, I’m talking with your President. If I’m going to warm anyone’s bed, it’s going to be his.”

Bronn raised his palms in surrender and walked off, heading toward one of the scantily clad ladies who would be all too happy to keep him company for the night.

Sandor smirked at what she had said. Would she really be interested in going to bed with him, or was she just saying that to make Bronn leave? A quick check of his watch and Sandor noticed that it had been four hours since they had arrived at the clubhouse. Time had flown in her company. The party was winding down, with people either leaving or retiring to their rooms for a little after-party fun. Now was the time to take Sansa home, before those sweet eyes of hers were exposed to any wild debauchery.

 

“Your ride never came. Need me to take you home?”

 

Sansa gulped down the last swig of her beer. “I never called for a ride, I called for a tow. Thought maybe I’d stay here tonight.” She cast her eyes at his and something unspoken was exchanged between them.

 

“Sure, you can stay. I’ll show you to my room.” He took her by the hand and led her down the hall to the room with a clear “M.C. President” sign. Once he entered, Sansa followed, securely locking the door behind her. He sat down on the bottom edge of his king size bed, but Sansa remained standing.

 

“Give me your cut.” She held out a hand toward him.

 

Curious, Sandor removed his vest and handed it to her. She folded it neatly and carefully draped it over a nearby chair. Satisfied that it was safe, she turned her attention back to Sandor, hopping up onto his lap and straddling him.

 

“I’ve been fantasizing about riding your cock ever since you pulled over this afternoon.”

 

His breaths were coming faster, whether he wanted them to or not. “Oh?”

 

“Do you want me?” Sansa bit her lower lip in anticipation of his response.

 

Worried that his voice might crack from excitement, Sandor nodded instead of speaking.

 

“I’m afraid that won’t do. I need you to tell me. Tell me how much you want me.”

 

He grabbed back of her neck and pulled her close. The words came out with barely a thought, so they must have been the truth. “I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my whole fucking life.”

 

Sansa placed a hand between them and began rubbing him through the crotch of his jeans. “That’s better. One thing you should know about me...when it comes to the bedroom, I’m not usually the passive type.” She hooked her arms around the back of his neck and used her hips to grind down on his hardness. If there had been any question of whether or not he was aroused, the evidence was clear.

 

Sandor swallowed as Sansa began undoing his belt, pulling it from the loops and dropping it to the side. After unfastening the top button and his zipper, she slid down his legs so that she was on her knees on the floor in front of him. Without a moment’s hesitation, her mouth was on him. She licked and sucked at every inch, stroking him with her hand everywhere that her mouth couldn’t reach. “Mmm, tastes good.”

 

Sandor sucked in a sharp breath. She was unusual compared to other women he had fooled around with. This wasn’t a typical get off/get out scenario. She wasn’t just using him to fulfill some biker fantasy stemming from a TV series or trashy romance novel. She wanted him. Really wanted him. And she was enjoying it. He looked down at her face and she stopped, standing up in front of him.

 

“I could suck you for hours, but I’m going to stop for now. Don’t want things to end too soon.”

 

She peeled the leggings down her body, followed by a thin pair of panties, and then straddled him again.

 

“You may be the one in charge out there, but right now, we’re going to do this my way.”

 

Before he could protest, not that he would have, she sank down onto him, taking his full length all at once. She placed her hands around his neck, pulling him close so that their foreheads were touching. She could feel his hot breath on her nose. Slowly, she began moving back and forth. He reached out, positioning the palms of his hands on her back.

 

“That’s it. Yes, baby.”

 

If it had been any other woman, he would have seen her attempt to take charge as an act of disrespect. But not her.

 

Sansa was working hard, and breathing heavily. “Mmmm, you feel so good.”

 

He gave her shoulder a quick bite, then buried his face in her neck.

 

“I’ve waited all night for this. Daydreaming of you and me, just like this. Do you like it, baby?”

 

He couldn’t speak. The sensation of what she was doing to him was almost too much. He answered by tightening his grip on her.

 

“Yeah? You like the way I’m milking your cock? Let me hear you.”

 

He growled deeply, setting his hands on her hips, pushing and pulling her at a furious pace.

 

“You feel so good, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come all over that beautiful cock of yours.”

 

Sansa’s body began to shake, a sign of what was to come. Sweaty and barely in control, she watched his face for any indication that he was about to finish. He was holding back.

 

“Don’t fight it, baby. Share this with me.”

 

His grunts became louder. As they both found their release at the same time, he squeezed her into a bear hug that could have cracked a rib if he hadn’t caught himself.

 

Afterwards, they didn’t change position. She kissed his forehead and brushed away the damp hair that clung to it with her hand. She kissed his scars, loving the ruined side of his face with her lips. He fell backwards onto the bed, passing out shortly after with her still on top of him.

 

The next morning, Sandor awoke to a thick beam of light from the window shining straight into his eyes. He turned to his other side to avoid it, only to find Sansa sleeping naked next to him. He was surprised to see her still there. Usually women would take off when they were done with him for the night. Seeing her up close in the daylight, he was able to admire her flawless beauty. She had perfect creamy skin dotted with tan freckles on her cheeks and across her nose. Thick, auburn eyelashes fluttered in her sleep. She had the most perfect set of pouty pink lips he had ever seen. He grinned at the thought of all the dirty things that had come out of that pretty mouth of hers last night.

 

She had been a bad girl the night before, but right now she was an angel. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and toying with the hair that surrounded her head like a fiery halo. Sansa stirred in response, her eyes blinking open, squinting at the bright daylight.

 

“Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?”

 

Sansa stretched her arms above her head with a sigh and nodded.

 

“Good, because we need to have a serious discussion about last night.”

 

Sansa raised herself up onto her elbows, concerned. “What? Why?”

 

Sandor found it difficult to keep a straight face. “Asserting dominance over the President of the M.C. is blatant disrespect. Punishment is usually an ass kicking. But since you’re a woman, I’m going to have to improvise something else.”

 

Sansa’s eyes were wide with confusion. She didn’t know if she should be turned on or afraid, or maybe both. “You’re going to punish me?”

 

“Yes, and your punishment starts now.”

 

Sandor moved so that his body was over hers, then pushed his way down the bed until his face was hovering above her navel. Using both hands, he picked her legs up behind the knees and pushed them up toward her face, exposing her most intimate parts to the cool air. He licked his lips, then dipped his head down and began using his mouth all over her. He licked and sucked at her clit, then ran his tongue along her entire slit from top to bottom, finishing at her clit again. Sansa gripped the sheets tight with her hands. In past relationships, she had to practically beg a man to go down on her. Not only was Sandor doing it without her asking, but he was enjoying it, and he was very, very good at it. His nose gently rubbed her clit from side to side as he lapped at her juices. It was only a matter of a couple of minutes before Sansa cried out, clenching her thighs around his head and moaning with every aftershock.

 

Satisfied, Sandor made his way back up her body, supporting himself with his hands on either side of her head. He was above her, but not laying on top of her. His body wasn't touching hers at all. It was driving her mad. She desperately wanted to be filled by him again. When she put her hands on his shoulders and attempted to pull him down to her, he resisted.

 

“What?”

 

His eyes meeting her gaze, he made his demand clear. “Who’s in charge?”

 

Sansa scoffed at his request. “Really? You’re going to make me…”

 

He lowered his groin and nudged his hardness along her mound, just above where he knew she desperately wanted it. “I’m not going to give you what you want until you tell me who’s in charge.”

 

She realized then that he was serious. Not wanting to delay things another second, she told him what he wanted to hear. “You. You’re in charge.”

 

Sandor grinned and lowered his entire body onto her, settling between her legs. He put his face to her ear and whispered, “Good girl” as he entered her in one swift motion. It was everything she had wanted and more. He pushed himself into her over and over, driving her body into the mattress. Sansa gripped his back, digging into his skin with her fingertips, leaving marks with her nails. She worried for a moment that she might be gripping him too hard, but he didn’t seem to mind. He continued pounding into her, the bed shaking so violently that Sansa thought it might break into pieces at any moment. She could feel him swelling within her. He was close, but she was closer. As she began to squeeze him through her orgasm, Sandor pushed himself up onto his arms and watched her face as she came. Her climax ripped through her with a ferocity that she hadn’t experienced before, and it sent him crashing into a release of his own. Fully sated and slicked with sweat, he slid off of Sansa and onto his back. The sheets were soaked all around her. Still panting, Sandor reached over and took her hand in his, a gesture of intimacy that he had never before wanted to make.

When sitting around, shooting the shit, the other guys in the club often talked about someday finding a woman and making her their “Old Lady.” It gave the woman a position of respect, but it also meant that they were in a committed relationship, and the club was responsible for her protection. Sandor always thought it was stupid. He had never known a woman who could possibly be worth all that trouble.

 

Until now.


End file.
